


Iceberg

by Ellstra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Nobody is Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22198180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: Hux became a Resistance spy to get back at Kylo Ren and died for it.Kylo Ren turned back to the Light and died for it.Or did they?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 13
Kudos: 192





	Iceberg

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my take on a TROS fix-it fic, except it's not a proper fix-it. I'm not fixing anything, not changing anything, just playing within the boards the film gave me (turns out there's a lot of that space to move in.) I hope you'll like it. There's a bunch of (in my opinion) cool stuff that didn't make the cut for the fic but which I'm eager to share, you can find them in the end notes if you'd like.

_ “I’m going to Kijimi to get the girl. Be ready.” _

Ren’s parting words resonate in Hux’s head as he follows Pryde to corridor E-2036 where a platoon of Stormtroopers caught the Wookie and his Resistance would-be-rescuers. He pats himself discreetly on the chest and stomach, making sure his protective vest is still in place. If everything goes according to plan, he’s going to need it soon. 

The ring of Stormtroopers loosens when they arrive and Hux can, for the first time, see who was foolish enough to breach a Star Destroyer. He’s not exactly surprised it’s Dameron and FN-2187 kneeling on the polished floor tarnished by an occasional splatter of blood and charred armour. Dameron gives him a quick look that makes it seem like they have a shared secret and Hux hopes Pryde is too preoccupied with his vision of being Palpatine’s new boytoy to notice. 

“Take them away and terminate them,” Pryde orders without sparing the prisoners a glance. Hux suppresses an urge to roll his eyes at the short-sightedness of the command and motions for three ‘troopers to go with him. Pryde behaves like someone who can’t wait to bring out his stash of thousands of brand new Star Destroyers and who’s so sure that those Destroyers would bring him victory that he doesn’t have to think his decisions through. Hux allows himself a bitter chuckle. He used to be like that, sure of his greatness standing upon the mightiest weapon the galaxy had ever seen, but he’s learned his lesson. 

He makes the prisoners stand in line when he’s certain he’s out of earshot. Dameron and the traitor bicker about something and it reminds Hux of his own fights with Ren back in the early, uncomplicated days when they were equals and he could say just about anything. He feels a sting of nostalgia, and jealousy. He wonders if he should warn them not to let the harmless teasing grow into something they might regret, but he decides against it. He’s about to save their lives, that should be enough for them. 

“Actually, I would like to do it myself,” he tells the Stormtrooper and reaches for his weapon. He lays the weapon on his shoulder, aims at Dameron’s head and concentrates on his breathing. He has to act fast even if he will have the moment of surprise working for him. Good thing he’d been practising his shooting in the past few weeks. Taking one last breath, he turns to his left and fires three times. The prisoners have instinctively bowed their heads to protect them but now they look over their shoulders. Hux’s heart is beating in his chest but his hands are perfectly steady.

“It was me. I’m the spy! Follow me,” he splutters and it sounds embarrassingly nervous. Well, let them think he has just decided to do this. The less they know about how planned this was, the better. 

“I knew it!” Dameron exclaims. Hux frowns with displeasure. Why are all these Republic people so obnoxiously loud? Hux’s upbringing was lacking in many aspects but at least he didn’t grow up to be a child with man-sized vocal cords. He wonders what made Dameron say that – Hux made very sure his message for the Resistance was impossible to decode. He thinks back to that time over a year ago when Dameron mentioned his mother, but immediately chastises himself for it. They don’t have time for this. 

Just like they don’t have time to discuss their motivations, but he doesn’t escape that either. 

“I don’t care who wins,” he says. He’s rehearsed this answer a few times in his head but it still feels artificial, “I just need Kylo Ren to lose.”

They seem to buy it though, and Hux supposes he’s worried too much about this. He supposes it’s a perfectly believable explanation to everyone else, to outsiders who don’t know his and Ren’s history. To them, Hux is a disgraced General under the thumb of a tyrannical leader. To them, Resistance scum, it must make perfect sense for Hux to renounce everything he once stood for, his entire life, his heart. And they say they’re morally superior. Hux feels disgusted. 

He doesn’t have time to think it through more when he falls onto the ground as his leg gives out under him. He supposes he should have expected that – and even be grateful that FN-2187 decided to simply inconvenience him instead of outright kilingl him – but that doesn’t make it hurt less. He watches the Millenium Falcon thrusters ignite as he gets up to stand. He leans against the wall to catch his breath, his vision swimming. He closes his eyes for just a second, knowing he has to go dress his wound to stop the bleeding but feeling too feeble to move a single muscle. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before some commotion in the hangar startles him. There are Stormtroopers scattered all over the floor and in the midst of it, calm and steadfast, two figures facing each other. The girl! Ren stands a little bit away from her and Hux can tell that he’s letting her leave. She has to be the one to come to Palpatine – the Emperor doesn’t care about Ren but for his bond with the girl. Hux still isn’t exactly sure why Palpatine asked Ren to kill her, but that’s not his battle to fight. He tears his eyes away from Ren and limps to the nearest first aid kit. 

His hands shake as he opens the little box and he nearly drops the patch of bacta on the floor. He has to find the wound with his fingers and he hopes he won’t infect it. There’s no time to spare with cleaning up though – he has to get to the bridge and report to Pryde before anyone notices he and the ‘troopers are missing if he’s to hope to survive. The second someone sends a search party for him, he’s done for. 

He fastens the piece of bacta with some band-aids and wraps a bandage around his thigh to be sure. There are some stimulants in the box so he stabs himself in the other thigh with them before getting on his way. On his way back to the bridge, he sends a message to a Lieutenant he remembers from his shifts with a request for a cane to be brought there. Neither of Hux’s closest officers serves on the  _ Steadfast _ and Hux himself hasn’t been on it long enough to establish meaningful and useful relationships. He supposes he won’t get to do it now.

…

_ Ben. _

Kylo stops mid-motion, that single word twisting his insides as if to pull them out of his body. That voice… he hasn’t heard it in years yet he would know it anywhere, even without the warm, loving glow caressing his soul. Somehow, his mother has reached him in the Force, from thousands upon thousands of lightyears away. She shouldn’t be able to do that. And yet he doesn’t doubt it’s her. 

_ Mommy,  _ he whimpers. 

_ I love you,  _ she replies and slips away, leaving behind an emptiness he has never even imagined. His saber slips out of his hand without him noticing but it never reaches the ground. He catches a glimpse of it a thought before Rey drives it through his stomach. 

He doesn’t really feel pain, not at first. His mind is still with his mother, and he barely realises that his knees have given out underneath him as he falls. He knows it’s Rey in front of him, but her features resemble Leia too much and for a moment Kylo isn’t sure who he’s looking at. When she moves closer and lays her hand on his stomach, the warmth and healing that come from her feel alien, restrained, scared, and Rey’s face builds itself back into focus. 

“I did want to take your hand,” Rey says at last, pulling away from him, “Ben’s hand.” 

She leaves him there, on the ruins of the Death Star, and takes his Silencer. Kylo chastises himself for leaving the engine running – Hux is going to kill him when he learns he let someone steal the ship that was designed to start for him only. Kylo closes his eyes and tries to push his grief aside but it’s insistent, throbbing and scorching in his temples. His mother…

Kylo hasn’t allowed himself to think much about her ever since he left his uncle’s temple. He has always hoped that if he stayed far away from her, he would never have to face her death. That she would simply grow old and die peacefully, with her beloved Resistance at her side, and he would never know. In his darker moments, he thought he would die before she did, leaving her to deal with the guilt and pain of his death. He was shaken to his core to see his father again back at Starkiller base, but that was nothing in comparison to feeling Leia’s presence in his heart again. Now, he’s killed both of his parents. 

Now there’s only one person in the entire galaxy who feels anything but hatred for him.

“ _ I wanted to take your hand. Ben’s hand.” _

“Hey, kid.”

Kylo takes a shaky breath and turns to face his father.

His consciousness replays their last conversation again. Kylo’s lived through this moment dozens of times before, both awake and dreaming, but the scenario is a little different this time. This time, Kylo does know what he has to do, and that he has the strength to do it. This time his father gives him a small smile and a slight nod as Kylo turns around and throws his lightsaber far into the raging sea.

…

Pryde is visibly distressed and trying his best to hide it. Hux almost finds it amusing, but he doesn’t allow himself to get distracted. He’s treading in dangerous waters now. The plan has been set into motion and the wheels of fate are turning too fast for him to change their direction. He has chosen a path in this mess and no one is there to help him walk it. 

Hux gives Pryde his excuse – rehearsed, artificial – but he can see in his eyes that it’s not enough. He looks around the bridge, tries to locate a friendly face, and fails. This is–

The blaster bolt catches him unawares. He stumbles and the force of the impact sends him flying. He hits the ground, bringing his chin as close to his breastbone to protect his head, but he still has his breath knocked out of him. He panics for a moment, thinking that maybe the armour failed after all, he was always doubtful that it would work, he should have used the regular one, now he’s going to die and for what?, he won’t get his revenge of Pryde, oh no–

He gasps and breathes again. He doesn’t dare move, but it seems like everyone already forgot about him. Hux has always imagined his death to be grandiose, accompanied by wailing of his subjects – with, at some point, Kylo Ren, beautiful in his grief, at his side. As he lies on the floor of a Star Destroyer that should have been his to command, pretending to be dead, he realises that even celebratory cries of his enemies wouldn’t be such a bad thing to accompany him on his last journey. This is just… miserable. He’s really glad he’s not actually dying just yet. 

Some time passes before anyone acknowledges his presence. He can hear Pryde giving out instructions and commands by the viewports but he doesn’t hear the exact words, no matter how hard he tries. His entire body hurts from lying in the same position but he’s afraid to move for fear of being seen. Finally he can hear Pryde’s pretentious steps approaching – he’s always thought Pryde wore those shoes with hidden high heels to make himself appear taller than Hux himself, but he never got to prove it. The steps stop and Hux’s whole body tenses as he wills all his muscles not to move.

“Clean up the mess. I don’t want to see this useless tool anymore,” Pryde sneers and nudges Hux’s side with his boot, “and inform the Supreme Leader that his boytoy suffered a lamentable fatal accident.”

It takes all of Hux’s reserve to keep still. For a moment he’s worried someone will try to check if he’s really dead, or even just touch him to take his body away, but luckily only a droid comes to get him. They put him on a stretcher and wheel him out of the bridge. It takes Hux a while to realise that they’re taking him to the infirmary, not the morgue to dispose of him. The droid knows that he’s alive – of course they do, they can read his heartbeat, his breathing and maybe even his brain activity, depending on what series they are. Hux hasn’t considered this.

“MA-” he croaks, his voice thin, as he turns his head to the side to see what kind of medical droid it is, “63. Let me go. Please.”

“You are injured, General,” the droid replies. Their voice reminds Hux of his strict, adamant nanny droid. 

“It’s alright, I took care of it. I need to leave,” Hux pleads with them. The First Order medical droids have a rather peculiar programming which gives them the ability to refuse many requests or even downright commands despite their fairly limited autonomy in other areas. Hux has always found it rather cruel but very effective. 

“You have to be seen by a medical professional,” MA-63 insists. They’re almost through to the infirmary. Hux doesn’t know the doctors there, and right now he has to disappear without anyone as much as suspecting that he’s still alive. 

“You are a medical professional,” Hux says, “you can read my vitals. Am I in imminent danger?”

MA-63 pauses for a bit and Hux supposes they’re scanning him thoroughly now. He can hear the thudding of dozens of Stormtroopers nearby. His eyes flicker nervously from side to side and he’s quite sure his heart is working sufficiently as it tries to force its way out of his ribcage. 

“Your blood-pressure is normal but your heart rate is too high, General. You might be going into shock–”

“I’m not going into shock,” Hux hisses. He closes his eyes to compose himself. He won’t achieve anything by yelling at the droid like a man going mad from blood loss. “But there are people on this ship who have tried to murder me, and they will try again if they find out I am alive. Please help me.”

MA-63 watches him, reviews their readings and nods. Hux lets out a relieved sigh. 

“Please take these stimulants in case you feel nauseous, weak or dizzy. And of course seek out medical help in such a situation,” they say and bring out a couple of syringes from a compartment in their chest piece. They push a button on the side of the stretcher and the restraints holding Hux in place roll back into the sides of it. Hux sits up, trying not to wince in pain, and accepts the stims. 

“Thank you, MA-63. You’ve saved my life.”

“I sincerely hope so, General.”

Hux stands up and realises only then that his cane stayed on the bridge. He curses under his breath, his leg trembling with effort. Pain shoots through his thigh and all the way back into his spine. 

“Actually,” he says, breathing hard to stop himself from fainting, “what would you say to a little trip to watch over me?”

…

Kylo’s ship shakes and tumbles in the boisterous atmosphere of Exegol. He curses himself again for letting Rey take his own as he struggles with the battered vessel. Half of the screens aren’t working and he’s been convincing himself that what he’s smelling is not a vital part of the engine on fire. He’s almost there, his scanners have already found the ship Rey arrived in. It’s an X-wing, and a rather old one at that. Kylo doesn’t try to understand where she found Luke Skywalker’s old ship, or where she left his own TIE Silencer. He has to focus if he’s to play his part convincingly, and getting mad at her isn’t the way to go about it. 

There’s a handful of ships flying among Palpatine’s Star Destroyers but they’re so pitifully scarce that Kylo almost feels bad for the Resistance. They’ll figure it out though, they always have – when they miraculously escaped from Crait all cramped up into the Millenium Falcon, when they managed to destroy the entire Starkiller Base with a squad of one-pilot vessels or even back in the age of the Empire when they won the entire war with just the help of a handful of creepy teddy bears. It took Kylo a while to understand, and even longer to accept, but somehow the universe seems to work for the Resistance even when everything else is against them. He’s tired of fighting that.

He lands beside Rey’s ship and jumps out of his. He leaves it unlocked again, knowing he will have to be quick to escape if they succeed. He tries not to wonder if he’s too late. The sinister, suffocating atmosphere filling his lungs is no less frightening the second time around, and he wonders what it must feel like to Rey who isn’t used to the corrupting lure of the Dark Side. But maybe he’s wrong. Rey has more Dark Side in her blood than he can ever hope to achieve – he’s felt it in her from the moment they met, back when he still believed he could use it to bring her to his side. So much potential, and yet for nothing. 

He kills some of them nameless, faceless guards that try to stop him with his blaster but the further he goes, the more uneasy he feels. He’s making his progress way too easily. There should be more guarding the undead Emperor and his granddaughter, now that he finally has her within his grasp – Kylo is unnecessary now, if he ever served any purpose at all. 

Rey is close now, gleaming like a beacon in the darkness of the place. He can sense her turmoil, her worry but also her anger, hatred. She’s reaching for the darkness inside her, and unless Kylo does something soon, she’ll give in to Palpatine’s words. He reaches out to her, hoping his new mask fits him well enough not to slip.

She has two lightsabers with her, Luke’s and Leia’s. Kylo gets so distracted by the small piece of his mother that he notices his knights only after they’ve surrounded him, holding their heavy, intimidating weapons. 

_ No, no, no _ . 

He fights off their attacks, trying his best to incapacitate them without hurting them, all the while knowing it’s pointless. For all they know, he has turned to the Light Side and is now an enemy, and he can’t tell them the truth without losing his cover. 

Rey raises her lightsaber. Palpatine leans back, expecting her to strike him down and continue the legacy of the Sith. Kylo watches, helpless. Everything is still for a crushing, suspenseful moment.

_ Help me. _

Kylo nods and Rey drops her saber. 

He lets his body do the fighting. It happens so fast he can almost pretend it didn’t. 

It did. 

And it hurts.

_ Ben. _

Kylo bottles his feelings up and rushes to Rey’s side. He must see everything through now, or it has all been for nothing. Holding his lightsaber up, he matches Rey’s pose and together they face the Emperor. 

_ “A dyad in the Force. Unseen for generations.” _

Kylo is sure Rey will see through him now. Palpatine said it for her – they’re two halves of the whole, one light, one dark. One born out of the light and choosing darkness, the other his perfect mirror. If she does, Kylo never finds out. Searing pain grabs onto his core and pulls, draining him of energy. He can sense Rey’s panic mingling with his own and his stomach twists with disgust as Palpatine grows stronger from their combined essence. 

His vision swims and fades into black and he loses consciousness just before his body hits the ground.

…

Nobody tries to stop Hux from taking off in the small transporter he had designed a while back for this very purpose. It’s not as flashy as the one he made for Ren but it’s just as reliable. His personal codes still work and he has to hope Pryde won’t notice until he’s safely on the other side of the galaxy. He sets a course and jumps into hyperspace. MA-63 is scanning him for the entirety of take-off and Hux can see they’re waiting for him to let go of the controls to fuss over his leg. The adrenaline fades slowly from his bloodstream and he can feel all his energy leaving him. 

He unzips his ruined uniform and throws it onto the ground. He runs his hands over the vest that’s saved his life. It shouldn’t have, by the looks of it. It’s made of thin, smooth material that adjusts to his body the second he puts it on, a beautiful thing that accentuates his figure. It looks nothing like the blaster-repelling armour of the Stormtroopers and yet is obviously much more effective. This could win him a war, if only it were possible to mass produce. 

He draws a forn over his heart with his index finger and the vest loosens enough for him to slip out of it. The tanktop he’s wearing underneath is sweat-soaked but otherwise untarnished. Hux shakes his head in disbelief and takes a deep breath, still half-expecting a bloody stain to bloom above his breastbone. 

“Are you in pain, General?” MA-63 asks. 

Hux shakes his head and brings his protective vest to his chest, hugging it close. He places a soft kiss to the sleek, warm material of it and he can’t stop the tears of relief that fall onto it, rolling down and seeping into the fabric of his trousers. 

“No, MA,” he whispers, “I’m alive.”

…

The fall is long and terrifying. Kylo can barely breathe, much less summon the Force. When he hits the bottom of the pit, it’s purely coincidence that he survives. There’s a thick, soft carpet of some odd vegetation that glows a sinister shade of blue which dampens his fall. His skin tingles where it came to contact with the strange plants, and he feels warmer, rested, well. He sighs contentedly and lies face down into it, breathing in its scent. It reminds him of several things at once, of Life Day back when he was a child and his family was complete for one day at least, but also of the scented candles Hux lights up in his quarters to mask the scent of sex.

Happiness. It reminds him of happiness.

He sits up at last and stretches his limbs. His eyes have gotten used to the almost perfect darkness around him and he looks around for a way out. The top of the pit is far above his head, small and flickering with the distracting light of Palpatine’s lair. A little to his left, there’s a crack in the wall, so he stands up to inspect it. 

It’s wide enough for him to fit inside when he crouches a little, and seems to open into a passage somewhere. Kylo reaches out with the Force and is overwhelmed by the abundance of life he can sense in front of him. He makes his way forward and slightly down until suddenly he’s standing in a wide cave illuminated by the same flickering blue-green light as that of the plants that saved his life. His head spins slightly and he can feel the Force dance at his fingertips, setting his skin ablaze. 

Without realising what he’s doing, Kylo walks over to the source of the light – a wide, calm body of water. He can barely hear it flow even if he can see it move in one direction, as if the water runs so smoothly through its bed it doesn’t hit any obstacles. Kylo crouches down at its bank and dips his fingers in.

_ He’s holding a lightsaber, fighting off Palpatine’s Force lightnings. He’s exhausted but so done with everything, so angry. And for the first time ever, he’s not alone; the Force runs through him so strongly he can barely contain it. All the Jedi are with him when he ignites the second lightsaber and turns the Emperor’s own Force against him. He’s pure power as he advances forward, feeling Palpatine shrivel and die, until he explodes into dust. The thousands of voices cry for joy in him and pull away, leaving him an empty shell that crumbles to the ground– _

Kylo opens his eyes with a gasp. It takes him a while to focus back into himself, to remember who and where he is. He can still feel Rey in the Force but her essence is flickering like a flame of a candle running out of wax. It’s not really his problem. He’s free now – Palpatine can’t manipulate him anymore, the Imperial fleet will perish and Rey won’t be there to be confused whether to save him or kill him. He can go wherever he wants now and nobody is going to care. He’s dead for all intents and purposes, which means nobody will be looking for him while he plans his proper ascension to his rightful place in the galaxy. 

But is he? Nobody saw him arrive on Exegol – the last people to see him would be those preparing his ship for take-off to Kijimi, and those could hardly report him being dead, if they even were still alive themselves. Someone has to see him die and live to tell the tale, ideally someone important who could spread the word as wide as possible.

Kylo dips his other hand into the river and closes his eyes with anticipation. 

…

It should take Hux a little over a day to arrive on the small planet in the Arkanis sector he has chosen for his hide-out. He has disconnected his ship from all First Order networks to minimize his chances of getting caught, and for the first time in his life he has absolutely nothing to do but wait. He sleeps for two hours, makes himself a late lunch and cleans his blaster and knives, but less than halfway into his trip he’s shaking with anxiety, aching for a drug he’s been forced to give up. He reads the First Order safety procedures brochure that comes with the ship but even that takes him very little time and he knows it by heart anyway. He throws it aside and groans.

Everything is so kriffing  _ quiet,  _ it makes Hux’s head hurt. He’s never realised just how quiet space is – his engines work so smoothly it’s impossible to tell that they’re running, and there’s no sound aboard his ship. The only thing he can hear is his own breathing and the occasional rumble of his stomach. The silence is oppressive, heavy, painful. He wishes he’d thought of this and equipped his ship with some music recordings, but his past self, shielded by the omnipresent hubbub of life on a Stardestroyer, would have dismissed that idea if he ever even got it. 

He sits back in his chair and closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for all the things he would have to arrange once he arrives at his refuge. His mind keeps wandering off to places and people he doesn’t have the strength to recall just yet, and he has to steer it back so often he doesn’t really come up with anything useful. 

He starts absent-mindedly rubbing his hand over his crotch – slowly, without a purpose at first, but his cock catches up quickly and demands attention. He spreads his legs a little wider and slips his hand into his pants, his fingertips cold against his dick. (His hands are always cold. Ren used to bitch about it, but Hux found out soon enough that it actually turned him on.) 

Ren.

Hux’s mind floods with memories and fantasies mingled together into an intoxicating and so so dangerous cocktail. He’s tingling all over, his pleasure way too pronounced considering he’s just started, and he’s hard and leaking already. He comes so quickly it surprises him and leaves him disappointed, unsatisfied. He keeps stroking himself, hoping to coax more out of his cock, but it soon proves to be too much and he stops with a sigh. He’s feeling looser, calmer, as if he has just released stress he didn’t know he was under, and lonelier than before. 

…

Kylo doesn’t know how he managed to conjure the copy of himself that was currently climbing up the gulf he has fallen down, or how he’s able to control it, but he decides not to focus too much of it for fear of losing it. There’s vague pain in his muscles, as if he can’t properly detach himself from the apparition, and he can only hope the river will give him enough strength. Finally he reaches the top and climbs out, the flashing around him blinding him for a bit. 

Rey’s body is lying closeby, and he rushes to her, kneeling by her side. He can sense her through the Force but so weakly as if she wasn’t Force sensitive at all. He takes her into his arms and presses her to his chest, for a moment unsure what to do. She’s somehow heavier than he remembers, but maybe that’s an illusion created by him not really being there. 

He remembers the way he felt when she healed his wound back in the ruins of the Death Star and tries to replicate it as best as he can, their roles reversed. He can feel his double grow weaker and he hopes it will be enough,  _ please be enough _ –

Rey’s eyes come to focus, blink and turn to him. She smiles, and he smiles back, overcome by exhilaration. It worked! She takes his face between her hands and he lets her, supposing  _ Ben  _ would let her, and that’s what this is about, right? Let her go back and report him a fallen hero who sacrificed himself for the greater good, just like Darth Vader. There’s poetry in that. He can’t wait to hear the songs about it.

She leans in for a kiss. It catches Kylo completely off-guard; her lips are rough and parched as if she didn’t have time to moisturize them properly. He can’t remember the last time someone kissed him like this – slowly, without passion. Hux could be so rough with his kisses, as with everything else, and there hasn’t been anyone but Hux for a very long time. Rey’s is a  _ thank you  _ kiss, a sisterly one, and she’s still smiling at him as he pulls away. Kylo supposes this is just as good a time for his disappearance act as any and he pulls his hands slowly out of the river, his consciousness returning fully into his body in the cavern.

Rey’s X-Wing is already gone by the time he makes his way out but his own ship is still running and ready where he left it. He jumps in and takes off but it’s not exactly easy to navigate his way among the exploding fleet and enormous body of ships of all sorts of types and ages. There’s no way the Resistance has that many ships – Kylo saw them arrive into the system and there was just a handful of them, battered and war-worn. These are… Kylo is too tired to think about it. He finds a spot far enough from the main tumult and jumps into hyperspace. 

…

Hux is eating dinner when the alarm system of his little hide-out starts beeping. His heart starts beating frantically and he’s not sure if from fear or excitement. He views the breaching vessel and frowns – it’s a battered old thing, mostly likely put together from several different ships and barely functioning. It’s ugly and dirty, not what he was expecting (not hoping for, no, he wouldn’t allow himself to hope) or fearing. The First Order wouldn’t arrive in something like this, and the Resistance couldn’t have found him already. He made sure this planet was scarcely inhabited and that the population lived mostly on the other continent when he chose it. There’s only one person except for Hux who knows of this place.

His cottage doesn’t have any big weapons; if the ship attacks him, he’s as good as dead. He still has his own blaster and several knives though, and if this newcomer proves hostile, Hux won’t go down without a fight. After a moment’s hesitation he puts on his protective vest even if he’s not sure if it would work the second time. He never received proper instructions for it.

The ship lands neatly beside his own. Hux hides behind a tree, waiting for the pilot to disembark. The ship is so tiny he’s pretty sure there can only be one person on board, at least if they were roughly the size of humans. Hux’s hand trembles and he has to lean against the tree to support his weight. The ship’s engines go silent and he can hear the door opening. His breathing is fast and shallow, his stomach tight with anticipation. Somewhere in the distance a bird caws loudly. Hux lurches, thrown off-guard, and clenches his hand on the trigger of his blaster. He hits a nearby tree, which sends another flock of little birds flying. So much for the element of surprise.

“I was hoping for a warmer welcome,” a familiar voice says.

Hux’s stomach does a somersault and he has to keep himself from crying out. His visitor is still far away but Hux has no doubt about his identity – he would recognize that strut anywhere, that air of self-importance and confidence. He hides his blaster and leaves his hiding place. 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t had time to make a fire just yet,” Hux replies, unable to keep a wide grin from spreading over his face. The other man is running now, as if he can’t stand the distance between them anymore. Hux can’t walk but he spreads his arms towards him in greeting. They crash into each other’s arms. Hux grabs onto the familiar body, lays his head onto a wide shoulder and smiles, smiles so wide it hurts because they made it, they made it, they’re alive.

“You’re late for dinner,” Hux mumbles.

“I had to help defeat an undead Emperor,” Ren replies, “and revive his granddaughter.”

“I suppose that is an adequate apology,” Hux says and finally kisses Ren. 

Ren kisses back with an intensity that surprises Hux. He loses his balance, taking a small step back with his injured leg. It gives way underneath him and he hisses in pain. Ren pulls back immediately, panic in his eyes.

“Did I hurt you? I didn’t want to!” Ren blurts out and Hux smiles weakly. 

“No, it’s… collateral damage from my escape,” he replies and caresses Ren’s face. He runs his thumb over the slightly crooked outline of Ren’s nose.

“Where’s your scar?” he asks, panic rising in his chest again. Is this some sort of a trap? He tries to step away from Ren but he’s held too firmly. Ren frowns and touches his cheek.

“I don’t know,” he says and Hux wants to believe it’s genuine. He’s too tired, too torn from the inside to handle this. 

“Let’s go inside,” Hux tells Ren, “to talk.”

“Will you let me heal your leg?” Ren asks. 

“You can do that now?” 

“Apparently. Rey taught me how to do it,” Ren replies.

“Oh,  _ Rey  _ taught you,” Hux makes the face of someone appreciating whatever they’re being told. 

“Come on,” Ren mutters as if he’s trying very hard not to lash out at Hux for being so difficult. 

“I’m sorry if I’m a little suspicious when someone who looks a lot but not quite like my lover tells me he learned a skill from a girl who up until a year ago had no experience with the Force while said lover has been using it since childhood, but considering I’m now a mass murderer to half the galaxy and a traitor to the other, I suppose I have the right to be a little suspicious!” 

Hux is breathless by the end of his tirade, and Ren is still holding him in his arms but his smirk is back. Hux doesn’t know if he wants to hit him or kiss him, or rather, in which order to do both, but at least he recognises this expression.

“You’ve never called me your lover before,” Ren says.

“Well, don’t get used to it!” Hux snaps. He can feel blood rise into his cheeks, and wonders if it’s a good idea when he’s recently lost plenty of it. 

“Can I heal your leg now,” Ren asks, “lover?”

Hux decides for a leap of faith and nods. Ren slips his hand from Hux’s back to his injured thigh and soon enough there’s a feeling of warmth spreading through him. Hux gasps and closes his eyes. Yes, this is definitely Ren, the Force coursing through him familiar on a level so primordial Hux is certain it couldn’t be faked. He can’t describe it but he recognises it and his entire being rejoices at meeting it again. 

“There,” Ren says, “good as new.”

Hux barely notices the change, his mind clouded with desire. He tightens his grip on Ren and brings him close enough to roll his hips against Ren’s. It’s unrefined, blunt and desperate but he doesn’t care. Ren will laugh at him later, but there’s no later in Hux’s mind, there’s just now and his need. 

“I thought we were going inside to talk,” Ren says. 

“Change of plans,” Hux huffs and throws his head back, exposing his neck. Ren takes his clue and kisses him there, sucks some skin between his teeth and pulls. Hux moans and stumbles back under Ren’s weight, his back hitting the tree he was hiding behind. Ren bites down onto Hux’s clavicle, the pain of it almost too much, but not quite. For a second, the weight of Ren’s body disappears. Hux whimpers, his hips moving frantically in search of release. He opens his eyes just as Ren pulls down his pants and, maintaining eye-contact, takes Hux’s cock into his mouth.

Hux’s spine arches and he looks up at the tree-tops around him, already embarrassingly close to coming. Ren’s mouth is hot around his cock, his tongue massaging the sensitive spot on the underside, and Hux’s entire body is in flames. That familiar warm sensation is a little faded now but still unmistakably there, with him, holding him in a tender embrace as he writhes in pleasure. Ren presses two fingers against Hux’s perineum, one of them just shy of his hole, and Hux falls apart with a muffled cry, his fingernails digging into the tree. Ren swallows, twice, before he lets Hux’s cock slip out of his mouth. 

“That was very quick for a man of your age,” Ren points out. Hux’s mind is too fuzzy for him react to the jab. He’s leaning against the tree, his breathing uneven, and he knows there’s a stupid grin on his face. It alarms him how little he cares that Ren sees him like this, undignified, relaxed, happy. There were times when all of their liaisons happened without him seeing Ren’s face and when he kicked Ren out before the inevitable blissful stage came. It feels like a different lifetime.

“Let’s go inside now. I need some time to recover before I can properly reciprocate,” Hux mumbles at last and opens his eyes. Ren is standing very close, studying him. 

“You don’t need to give me an orgasm every time you come,” Ren says with a sigh, as if he’s lecturing a child, “I told you already.”

“I don’t want to be in your debt,” Hux counters. He adjusts his clothes and sets out for his home.

“There’s no debt. Trust me, I enjoy giving you head almost as much as you receive it, it’s not some labour I do expecting payment,” Ren says. Hux has heard that before, but he still doesn’t fully believe it. Ren catches his upper arm to stop him. Hux turns, ready to spit out insults, but they never make it past his lips when he sees Ren’s expression.

“I don’t know what I need to say to convince you I’m serious. I love giving you pleasure, I love making you laugh, I love lifting you up when you’re sad,” Ren sighs, closes his eyes and then, almost too quiet for Hux to hear, “I love you.”

Hux freezes. His entire body tenses and he feels like he wouldn’t be able to say something even if he could come up with the right words. His mind spins in a whirlwind, but no coherent thoughts form up, Ren’s confession smothering everything else. 

“Why,” he breathes out at last. It sounds almost like an insult.

“Probably because you must be the only person in the whole galaxy to say that to a love confession,” Ren says, “but mostly because you’ve always seen me for who I am. Not for who I was, or who I could be.”

Hux’s tongue itches with sarcastic comments but he forces them down. Ren is all he has left now. And he’s right. Hux has never realised that could be something special to Ren, being seen for what he was – a cruel, insecure boy wanting desperately to be a man, but he supposes it makes sense for someone with Ren’s heritage. 

“No one’s ever loved me before,” Hux says instead, employing a strategy he learned back in the Academy – when unsure of what to say, state the obvious, repeat what your opponent said, buy some time.

It seems that it’s Ren’s turn to not know what to say. Hux smiles, staring at his shoes. A love-sick schoolboy.

“I quite like it,” he says at last, “being loved.”

Ren chuckles. Hux raises his eyes to meet Ren’s gaze. 

“I miss your scar,” Hux points out.

“I have plenty of others,” Ren replies, “wanna see?”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Re: the promised cool stuff:   
> \- the title is inspired by the fact that 9/10 of an iceberg is invisible underwater (much like the story told in this fic)  
> \- Kylo made the protective vest for Hux, Force was involved, it absorbs the energy of the blaster shot which can be used for something later  
> \- the forn (the letter f in Aurebesh) drawn on the chestpiece of it allows the wearer to take it off or close it back on. This particular letter is a callback to Finalizer aka the place where Hux and Kylo first met  
> \- Hux and Kylo never turned to the Light or whatever. They just recognised they weren't fully in charge of the First Order and decided that rather than try to fight and navigate it, it would be easier to hit self-destruct and abandon the sinking ship, intending to build a new one. They still want to rule the galaxy, don't worry
> 
> I hope you liked the story, let me know in the comments if you did, please, and come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/EllstraH) and [tumblr](https://ellstra.tumblr.com/)


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